Strictly Business
by jamandjily
Summary: But no, the clock practically howled "9:05" and BLOODY HELL SHE WAS 35 MINUTES LATE TO THE PREFECT MEETING. What ensued could only be described as a Category 5 hurricane of pure hysteria and rage.


_Bugger_. The word circulated through the deep, intricate caverns of my cortex. It took a right turn and blurted out of her mouth, because after all that had happened, "bugger" was the only word in the English language that could possibly do justice.

Bloody Mary (there was no time to appreciate the genius pun) had forgotten to shake Lily from her state of unconsciousness. Indeed, all thought had flown out of her mate's mind when that _"_ delectable, brooding" (in Mary's delusional words) sixth year had entered the common room with a little more than a couple buttons undone and a bottle of Madam Rosmerta's rum with no one to share it with. Ever the party pleaser, Mary had slunk over to the arm of the chair and was currently partaking in some "friendly conversing of the mouth".

That's when Lily had groggily flipped to her left side and slivered an eye open, anticipating at least 15 minutes more of pure, unadulterated shut-eye. But no, the clock practically howled "9:05" and _BLOODY HELL_ _SHE WAS 35 MINUTES LATE TO THE PREFECT MEETING_. What ensued could only be described as a Category 5 hurricane of pure hysteria and rage. There was a resounding _thud_ as Lily crashed to the floor, her bedsheets entangling themselves in her legs. She kicked the cloth into a heap and took the stairs two at a time, which was quite a challenge for someone who was the size of a miniscule bamboo tree.

There wasn't ample time to properly deal with Mary, so Lily opted for an audible "huff" and a flick of a finger before she jumped through the portrait hole. After several flights of stairs and two long hallways, Lily began pondering about how much more efficient this would have been if she had been half a foot taller and an Olympic candidate. She was far from a sloth, but Lily could already detect her legs and arms shutting down from the unusual amount of exertion.

* * *

The wooden door straight ahead was propped open and pouring out with students. As Lily skidded to a stop (which looked impressive, but hurt her ankle), she glanced exasperatedly at the fifth and sixth years heading towards their respective houses.

"Hey Lily. Sorry you missed the meeting, yeah? We got some good stuff going," a squat Ravenclaw commented, giving a toothy smile.

Good stuff? Was this some sort of sick prank? Lily had an extensive lists of fantastic ideas (if she may say so herself) for the holiday celebration. She weaved through the crowd, offering a few nods and grim smiles until she entered the room.

Ah, of course. Her Head counterpart—well, his ahem, very attractive back—who had somehow managed to execute the meeting all on his lonesome, and with apparently, "good stuff".

Before she could point her finger and utter a remark, James Potter turned around, his eyebrows arching up and his lips curving into a smirk.

"Well well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Evans." He flourished his arms and took a deep bow. "How may I, your humble steward, be of your assistance?"

Lily fidgeted with her nails and took a deep breath before babbling.

"Look James, I feel terrible for missing the meeting. I was asleep because I'm almost definite McGonagall is trying to slowly murder us, and you know how bat-crazy Vector gets when someone mentions the theory of numerology, and Mary was supposed to w—".

There was a soft sigh, and hazel eyes met Lily's ivy ones.

"Lily, really, it's fine. You rarely shirk on your responsibilities, and I'm perfectly capable of herding a biweekly meeting on my own." The smile that played on his lips touched the corners of his eyes, and he gave her a wink.

Lily's brows furrowed. James had…well he had matured, to say the least. He dropped all of his flirty pretenses and humiliating proposals of "hot-laced romance". Gone were the days of constant perturbation and spontaneous hexing. This transformation was what baffled Lily. It was indubitable that James still maintained his spirited reputation, but he was more moderate with the unnecessarily immature bits. He also evidently held his school work to a high degree because he threatened Lily's number one ranking, yet somehow had the energy to hold quidditch practices and whip the house into shape.

And don't even mention his appearance. It would have been so much more convenient to despise an odorous, bulgy-eyed toad, but Lily was blessed with 185.5 cm of raw James Potter.

Analyzed individually, his features were too strong. His chin was a little too pointy, his nose too straight, his mouth always curved up into a smirk, his hair too unruly and too soft—well, according to a trusted source. Yet, together, they made a human who was unbearably charming and witty.

Dammit. She had the hots for James Potter.

Lily looked back at the boy before her.

"Hmmmmph okay, but I'm picking out the decorations for the ball."

James gave a crooked smile and gathered the scattered papers on the desk. Flicking the lights off, he shut the door and jogged to Lily, who was at a standstill at the edge of the carpet.

Lily vaguely heard a voice in her left ear. Could it be? She squinted and focused on the figure at the end of the hall. Her eyes widened in panic.

Lily's mind promptly went into overdrive, analyzing every possible way of escaping. The suit of armor was appealing, but it was quite snarky when she dropped her treacle tart on its foot last week. Could she fit in her extendable bag? Did she have time? Well James was practically a giant. He could work.

Wait! She spun around, nearly cracking James's nose with her head.

He spat out the hair that got caught in his mouth. "Lily, what's g—?"

Before he could utter his thought, Lily had both of her hands on his forearms and was currently backing him up to the door. James's eyebrows flew up. After all these years, Lily finally decided to trap him against a wall.

Lily pressed herself against James, suppressing a pornographic moan when met with warm muscle.

"James, do you see that person down the hall? That's Ernie Flanagan: Hufflepuff fifth year. As a joke, Dorcas sent him a letter professing my unyielding love for him. There were a few mentions of hand feeding and "wearing out the sack". Stop it!"

She frowned and gave a stern look to the chuckling form. The vibrations from his laughter were reverberating within her bones.

Trying to suppress his laughter, James said, "I should've learned a trick or two from Ernie. I might've gotten you third year then."

Lily ignored his comment and continued.

"I've had multiple encounters with him, and I've told him firmly that we were not appropriate for each other, but he doesn't seem to understand the words coming from my mouth…which is why you have to snog me."

James's face transformed into one of disbelief.

"Lily, I'm flattered, but you couldn't have done this ages ago?"

Always one for surprises, she rose onto her toes and began to leave small pecks on the warm length of James's neck. She could feel his pounding heartbeat.

Lily mumbled into his (deliciously smooth) throat. "I wasn't being crazily pursued before, so you need to snog me and scare him away."

James dared not point out the parallel between him and Lily because her hands went to cradle his face, and her peach lips landed gently on his.

And there was a fire that imploded in her stomach, a desire that had been dormant within her. Not nearly a second later, strong arms wrapped around her waist, and the lips beneath hers parted. What began as hesitant became insisting, heavy. Lily pulled at the tendrils curling at the base of his neck, and was rewarded when James let out a gruff groan. She felt herself spinning, and then, there was wood supporting her back.

James's hands were roaming her back incessantly, as if there wasn't one area that was more deserving than the other. His lips were persistent against hers, tongue hotly massaging hers.

James broke the increasing heat, eyes sparkling and forehead resting on Lily's. With his swollen lips and disheveled hair, he was the most enchanting thing Lily ever laid eyes on.

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her nose. "Is he gone?"

Lily's muddled brain could only process the attractive boy with his fingers playing with the tips of her hair and lips only millimeters only, not the words from said boy.

But at this point, rules be damned. The Head Boy was looking at her as if she were the sun.

And you have to snog people who do that.


End file.
